Mama Feels Bad

There are many combinations that seem to go hand in hand.  Chips and guacomole, hot dogs and ketchup, to name a few. 

One combination that is not as fluid…knee surgery and a one year old baby that can walk. 

Oh my gosh, these last two weeks have been a struggle.  I am so frustrated and feel like I can’t do anything.  I know I had to get the surgery, my knee was killing me and actually I had fallen several times when my knee just gave out, but the healing process is very slow and my son is very fast.  I of course feel guilty.  MOTHER GUILT!  Guilty that I can’t play with Lucas like I used to, guilty that we can’t go on long walks, guilty that I can’t be as active with my step-sons, guilty that we have hired someone to come in and help take care of Lucas. The nanny is great and Lucas loves her, but I feel terrible that I can’t do it all myself.  I feel like all I do is say,

“Do you mind if…”

“Can you please…”

“Will you do me a favor by…”

“I’m sorry to ask, but…”

 I am so used to doing everything for others that it is very difficult to be dependent.  When I went back to Doctor Hottie to have my knee drained (it is a fun as it sounds), the nurse took one look at me and said, “you have Mother guilt.”  How did she know?  I laughed because I was just talking to our nanny saying the same thing.  The nurse said she has it too, no matter what she does, all mothers do.  I was somewhat comforted.  Comfort in guilty numbers.  Regardless I am healing slowly and doing to best I can to make this time as easy on Lucas, and the rest of the family as possible.  Besides being a little too delighted that I can no longer catch him when he puts something in his mouth, I don’t think Lucas knows the difference.  

My step-sons are even more impatient with the healing than I am.  They look at my knee like they are waiting for water to boil.  Like at any moment I will throw the crutches to the side, announce that I am better, and immediately take us all skiing.  It is funny.  Every time I see them they ask, “are you healed yet?”  “How much longer till you can go bike riding with us?”  “This is the last surgery right?”  I won’t even go into how I broke my arm mountain bike riding with Harrison three months after Lucas was born.  Somewhere in my heart I think I am a twelve-year-old boy.  The boys have been great about it all though, from “lady area” surgery to knee surgery, they wait their best to get me back outside with them.  They ask very matter of factly, your “lady area” is better right…and now your knee will be better soon…right?”  Right I tell them all, I just haven’t told them that instead of Tae Kwon Do, mountain biking, and skiing, we will all be a family of swimmers and knitters, my body can’t take any more family fun.

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